The Difference Between Want and Need
by SnowFlake92
Summary: A Dean Winchester x Reader FanFiction.
1. Confessions

"Saturday Night at the movies, who cares what picture you see, when you're hugging your baby..."

"Cas, honey, I love you but please, please stop singing that song." You wouldn't really mind him singing it so much, if he could actually sing... and got the right tune. You were driving home after seeing the latest movie on date night, saturday. The whole reason why your 'date' kept singing the song, because the theatre had it on repeat over the sound system. Subtle. This was the 7th date that Castiel had taken you on; well, more like the 17th, but the 7th since you realised he liked you and wasn't just wanting to make a friend. As you drive home, listening to Cas sing one of his tuneless tunes and having a good time in his own little world beside you, you think back through the past few years; Running into the Winchesters while on that Werewolf case, becoming part of their little 'Scooby Gang' and travelling around and helping them with their hunts since then Cas joining the gang over the past year... Thinking about all the good times you've had with them all, especially the Winchesters; especially Dean.

Your thoughts are broken by the bright red lights signalling you to stop, and a small sigh escapes your lips. "Dean..." your melancholy whisper the only sign to indicate your feeling on the subject of Dean Winchester. You like him sure enough, he's alright you guess; He's quite funny, not bad looking, cares a lot for his brother and has shown such impressive skill in what he does. You sigh again and shake your head at yourself. Why can't you tell the truth? To yourself, let alone Dean? As you sit there, staring at the florescent lights as they change, mimicking your clarity of your situation; Red 'I do like him, he is nice I guess, and he always makes me laugh...' Amber 'Ok, I more than like him..." Green 'I love him.'

Actually not only do you love him, but you're in love with him, and have been for the past three years; through his cruel times, through his times in hell, even when he's gone off without a word of explanation to find Sam or to find a way to help him. You've loved him through your fights, even when you're worried sick about him and praying that he finds his way back home. You've sat there in your house, a place that they've come to call home too, for days just starring out of the window waiting to see that blasted black devil car of his. The amount of times you've visited the bunker, sometimes 2-3 times a day just to make sure they're not there. Even, no, Especially when he's been hospitalised; you'd sit there, all day holding his hand or stroking his hair, telling him "It's going to be okay" or "I'm always here." until you're asked to leave by the nurses. Though sometimes, when he's been in a critical condition, Sam's had to drag you from his side. You love him, you love him to a point it's painful as you know he'll never love you back. You've flirted and you've acted like you're together for a laugh sometimes, but that's just for fun and entertainment. So when Castiel joined and started treating you differently you decided that you'd give it a shot; see if being with someone who showed you that they liked you, really liked you, would make you forget.

"We're home!" you exclaim as you both make your way through the door. "Oh hey guys, how was the movie?" Sam is the first to greet you, his nose glued to his computer as usual. "I didn't expect it to have as much blood as it did." You say, shrugging your jacket off and throwing it onto the kitchen table. "Wait, didn't you go see that new horror movie? Blood Pact?" Sam is leaning back on the hind legs of his chair, staring at you with puppy dog eyes, "Seriously? You got scared by that?" though tone condescending. He turns his head away from you and begins to laugh, which was a red rag to your particular bull. Calmly, you walk behind the laughing Winchester and give his chair a slight kick with your heel, sending him backwards and onto the floor. "Oh, Sammy are you ok?" You fake ask, 'rushing' over to him as he lay there. "You know, you really shouldn't sit on a chair like that, you could hurt yourself." You say, giving him a sly smile and a wink before walking away. Sam bores holes into your head as you retrieve a drink from the fridge, "But come on," he starts, with a twinge of annoyance in his voice as he gets up from the floor, "We've seen worse things than that in person, and it's Sam!" Though before you have time to retaliate, a warm sensation wraps round your shoulders as you feel someone hug you from behind. "Leave her be Sam, I think she's lovely and adorable when she's scared." Castiel says before planting a soft kiss on your cheek, "Though I think she's that all the time."

"Think who's what all the time?" Dean walks into the kitchen; no shoes, jeans and a plain black T, sending your heart racing. "(Name), I was just saying that I think she's lovely." Castiel brings a hand up to your chin and tilts your head towards him, eyes meeting yours. "Ah, ok then..." Dean says nonchalantly, running a hand through his hair and scratching the back of his head "Has anyone seen Dad's journal?"

"Oh sorry," you start, trying to wiggle free from Cas's grasp, "It's in my room. Sam said I could read through it before Cas and I went out." You apologise as you walk past him to the kitchen door. At which point Dean puts his hands on your shoulders, yanking your heart into your throat, and says "I'll come get it then." As you both enter your room you cross over to the chair in the corner "here it is, sorry I should've given it back when I left." You hand the journal back to Dean with a smile before brushing past him to exit your room. "You and Cas seem to have bit of a thing." This random statement causes you to turn back in his direction. Confusion evident in your face he illiterates, "Going out to the movies, weekends away, getting all huggy in front of people." His expression is one of a smile, and his voice the usual upbeat-dirty tone; but his eyes, his eyes were different somehow. If you didn't know better you would have said it was hurt, even jealousy. But you do know better, and you know that it's just wishful thinking on your part; a romantic notion with nothing but heartbreak as its outcome. "Yeah, sorry about that too, he just gets a little confused about personal space sometimes."

"Yeah, though I doubt you mind the random hugging and the thing where he stands way too close when he speaks." Dean chuckles, walking over and leaning against a wall, flicking through John's journal as he does so. "The random cuddles I don't mind because I love cuddles anyway, but I do find the standing too close a little unnerving sometimes." You say truthfully as you rest against your door frame. "Really? I thought you guys would have got a lot closer with each other."

"What do you mean by that?" You ask him, pretending to be insulted, though you still didn't want him thinking that about you. "You know," he starts, a little flustered and hurrying to explain himself, "you guys spending lots of alone time together. Which is great, I'm glad that you've finally found someone that you feel that close to and intimate with." This makes you happy to hear. "Though I'm more happy for him; the fact that he's got you." This statement catches you off guard. "Why?" you ask, genuinely confused; though mainly by the sincerity in his voice than the statement itself. "Well, it's just that I can't think of anyone better than you to be with. I mean you can be scary sometimes when on a hunt, but just how sweet, kind and considerate you are makes you perfect for Cas." His words are soft and sweet and cause a smile to cross your face. Seeing this he gives an embarrassed cough and looks at his feet, "That's all I was thinking."

"I haven't slept with him Dean."

"Really? You haven't?" His head shoots up at your confession. "No." you confirm with a shake of your head. "Why not? I thought that you guys..."

"Because of the weekends away?" You interrupt, the question more knowing than really asking. "Yeah" He admits, crossing his legs as he does so. You see him looking at you in interest, and as you answer your eyes can't help but wonder; "Well I can see why you think that," Over strong, protective arms, "but no, we haven't." Along defined chest muscles, poorly hidden by tight black fabric, "There are lots of reasons really..." Then up; over his defined neck, chiselled chin, kissable lips and beautiful, captivating eyes. "Cas not much of a mover?" Deans dirty chuckle breaks you from your musings and back to reality. "N-no, but he doesn't have the intention to make a move on me." You move to your bedside cabinet, busying yourself with unpacking the bag from your last hunting trip. "What?"

"He says that he's just happy with spending time with me." You answer truthfully as you carry on unpacking, "He doesn't want to move too fast and scare me off, he wants to take it as slowly as I do." You stop what you're doing and just smile, thinking about Castiel and his sensitive ways. "Which is so sweet and considerate of him. That really is one of the things I love about him"

"Oh, so you do love him then?" Dean asks, putting his hands in his pockets and walking aimlessly towards your door. "Yeah, but..."

"But what?" Dean questions; body language cool and confident as he simply leans against the door, but voice betraying him as, for certain this time, you hear anxiety. "I do really care for him, and I do have those kind of feelings towards him." You stop your actions and stare at your hands for a moment, "But I can't love him, not fully"

"Why's that?" At his question you have a decision to make. But you'd already decided subconsciously from the moment he asked you that first question; If you're going to tell him the truth, you might as well tell him all of it. "I'm in love with someone else."

"Who?" You sit on the side of your bed nearest the window and farthest away from Dean with your back turned, thinking carefully about what to say. But, as you sit there starring at your trembling hands, you can think of only one thing; "Someone who doesn't feel the same way."

"Why don't you tell him?" He asks, sincerity and concern in his voice. You know you shouldn't say what you're about to, but he keeps asking the questions and you just can't lie to him anymore. You can't lie to yourself anymore. "For the same reason Cas doesn't make a move on me;" you sigh, marking the beginning of your own exposé. "I love him so much that I'm content just being his friend and knowing him the way I do. He's been through so much already that I just wanted him to know that I'm here for him." your fervent smile can be heard in your voice, evidence that your reasons are true. "I wanted him to trust and feel that he can depend on me and if I got that by being his friend, then that's what I'd be." However, as you stare out of the window, "But now, as the years have passed," your warm voice fades, to be replaced by pain "my feelings have escalated so much that I fight to find any sign that he feels the same; I give up living my own life just to be a small part of his, and it's killing me."

"I'll ask him." Deans' voice is so quiet that it's barely audible, and this makes you turn round and ask "Sorry?" as you're not sure you heard him correctly. "I'll ask him for you." He says, raising his head as well as his voice. "I can see that this is hurting you (Name), so I'll ask him because then you'll know and you can put your mind to rest." His voice is so sincere and his clarify just how much he wishes to help you. But you honestly have no idea who he's talking about. "Ask who?"

"Sammy." He answers enthusiastically. "You are talking about Sam?" He questions as the look on your face changes, darkening his revelation. "You're not talking about Sam."

"I'm not talking about Sam." You assure him truthfully, though beginning to regret your decision to be truthful. "But then who else could..." He pauses and raises his head in realisation. He turns to look at you, tone soft and cautious "It's me."

"What?" You say in mock surprise while inside begging that he doesn't pry any further. "Don't be stupid, of course not." You turn away, hiding your pain as stand and begin straightening out your curtains. He closes the door and walks slowly towards you; his shrinking proximity causing you to busy yourself further. "It's me isn't it?" His voice low and wrought with uncertainty. But you put your back to him, turning your attention to the urgent task of arranging and rearranging the roses on your windowsill; tears swelling and threatening to expose the secret you've fought to keep. Through a weak chuckle you try to quell your exposure, "No, of course it's not Dean..."

"(Name!)" His hand grabs your arm, forcing your body to turn to him, though your face stays staring at the flowers; the intricate layers of velvet petals a mirror to your inner turmoil. "(Name)", he reaches out his hand, but before he can touch your cheek a soft "Don't" escapes your lips; a pleading whisper. Lowering your head to hide your tears, you gently brush his hands away before walking towards your door. "So that's it?" Dean questions, the anger in his voice pausing your hand, "I find out that you're in love with me and you just, what? Walk away?"

"Please Dean, don't." You plead, slowly removing your hand from the door and lifting your gaze. "No (Name), You can't do this to someone; you tell them that your in love with them, that that love causes you unspeakable pain then go out with another guy, " Dean walks towards you in a rage, voice cracking "not just another guy but one of his friends." He paces your room before returning to his position at the window, "No (Name), that's just cruel."

"How is that any more cruel than the things you've done to me?" You bark, spinning round on your heel to face him; your tears and anger in full view. "How is that anymore cruel than your flirting with me, or grabbing me and bringing me in for hugs and embraces or telling people that I'm your girl and yours and no one else's? How is that any more cruel when you do all that then go off with someone else? When you just drop me to be with your latest conquest and pick me up again when you need to look good or find another way in to somewhere or how to kill something." You know that it's all going to come out now, but you'd been caught red handed and you were damned if you were going to let him make you the one to feel guilty. "Well if I'm so terrible, why don't you just forget about me and go off with Cas? Move on and be with someone who makes you happy, because God knows I don't want to be the cause of so much pain."

"What do you think I'm trying to do Dean?" You walk forward a few steps, making a conscience effort not to go over there and slap him silly for being such a fucking moron. "I'm trying to 'move on', I'm trying to be with someone who proves that they really want me." As you talk, your hand gestures become more and more erratic, and as he listens, he moves to and leans against a bed post. "He takes me away for weekends just because he wants to spend time with me; He took me to the Bellagio in Las Vegas," you pause your pacing as your hands come up to your face in remembrance, "God, even to the Four Seasons in Italy." You turn away and walk a little distance, stopping just before your door. "I saw the most beautiful sights and witnessed unspeakable pleasures that some will never experience." You take a deep breath, steadying your nerves and calming your feelings. "But I couldn't enjoy them fully. I couldn't, because he wasn't you." You turn to look at him, his gaze meeting yours as he raises his head to your last words. All anger and hurt gone from your system you turn and walk closer to him and, with a soft and calm voice, open your heart. "It wasn't you holding my hand, it wasn't you sneaking in to watch me sleep, it wasn't you I danced into the night with." His eyes return to the floor as he shuffles his position; legs and arms crossed but still leaning against the bed post, listening to your every word.

"I'm trying Dean, I'm trying so hard to focus on Cas and making it work. But I know that it never will because I am hopelessly and completely devoted to you." You turn to the dresser on your left and lean your hands against it, starring into the mirror as you continue your declaration. "I am so in love with you that I will always love you, no matter what." You change position so that your back is against the dresser and your looking directly at him. "You're the perfect guy Dean; You're brave in situations that even Sam or Bobby can't be, you are the most selfless person I have ever met and your need to help everybody in anyway you can is amazing, along with just how loyal you are." You continue your outpour as you make your way to the bedpost opposite him. "But you're not perfect to me. I mean you are perfect to me, but you're not perfect towards me." Your hands grip against the wood, trying desperately not to cry and show your crumbling resolve. You rest your head against your clutched hands, closing your eyes as you continue, "I am so in love with you Dean," Your voice quavers, "to a point that every time you're name is mentioned in a good light, or someone thanks you, or you show just how good you are, at what you do and as a person, I feel such pride, such happiness for you."

Your heart pounds with every word, every confession you make and your mind is screaming at you to stop and just walk away. But your heart, your soul, needs you to carry on; you need to know, and you need him to know. "I feel things for your achievements that I haven't even felt for my own, I feel pain more severe for your losses, hurts and defeats than I ever will mine. But this love is the reason for my feeling sick every time you're with another woman, the reason my chest tightens when you kiss, pursue or hold someone else." You raise your head to look at him; the face, the body and being that you have come to feel such adoration for; not moving a muscle and keeping his head down and out of your gaze. "I know it's pathetic and I know I'm so much stronger than this, but I die a little knowing that your first and last sight of the day..." you look away as your voice trails off in sadness, "will never be me." As you look into the distorted reflection of your jewellery box you continue in a low, soft tone. "For three years I have been in love with you Dean, but for three years I have just been your safety blanket; your little pick-me-up when the job gets too much, or your little doll when you need to impress or trick someone; she speaks six languages, she plays piano, she can use ever weapon known to man. I'm your puppet, played with when you want entertainment and show then discarded again."

He moves, the impact of the last statement evident in the gesture. As you notice this, you take a step from behind the bedpost and towards him, softening your voice further and wearing a wry smile. "But I don't ever try to leave or hate you for it, because I can't." Tears begin to form on your lashes, though your time for caring has long since past. "I can't cut my own strings and be free from you Dean, I couldn't even if I wanted to. So you must do it for me." You walk slowly towards him, tears falling in waves and every step feeling like a mile. "You need to tell me that I have no chance with you, that there's no future with you because that is the only way, the only way I will ever be free." You stand before him, voice wrought with pain and eyes betraying every shred of pride or self respect you've tried to keep throughout this confession. "And this, you shouldn't feel guilty or cruel by this because either way, it's my release; if you let go or tighten you're grip of me it will be a release."

As you stand there, "So, please Dean," baring your soul and showing every weakness and every ounce of mortality that you have fought so long and so hard to hide, "I am begging you, please just tell me," you prepare yourself to ask the one thing that will give you the peace you need.

"Do you want me?" His eyes finally find yours, "Or do you need me?"


	2. Regrets

Silence. Silence befell the room, just the thumping of your heart remained. You look at him, searching his face desperately for any sign, any emotion; Acceptance, rejection, anger, hurt, happiness... anything. But nothing. He just stands there, head to the floor and eyes closed. So, you have your answer.

You slowly lower your head as you close your eyes, allowing the last of your tears wash over your cheeks. As a pained smile stains your lips you slowly nods, accepting what you knew was inevitable. Though the knot in your stomach proves you hoped... Oh it doesn't matter what you hoped. What you dreamed. Whatever it was, it's shattered now and is never... was never going to happen. With an intake of breath you turn on your heel and cross the room, exit without a word and close the door behind you; leaving him alone.

A month goes by, then another, both of you continuing on; hunting together, living together, and not speaking a word about it to anyone else. Or really each other outside of hunts and when it's absolutely necessary. You carried on going out with Cas; you had finally given up and decided that he's a man that could be in your future. However, you're still finding it hard to let go of the life you had hoped for; and the man you had hoped to build it with.

(Sam's POV)  
"(Name), we're close now, so we'll give you a ring when we've killed the Djinn. OK?" Sam says down the phone to you as the three of them stand outside an abandoned hospital. "OK Sam, now can you guys please be careful, please?" You say. The worry is driving you insane. You would have gladly gone with them, were it not for that Acheri attack a few days prior, so the boys forbid it. "We will, I promise. I'll ring you as soon as we're done."

"Is that (Name)?" Cas asks, looking up from his knife, now sodden in lamb's blood. Sam nods in his direction, still trying to convince you that they'll be fine. "May I talk to her a while?" Castiel asks walking towards Sam, arm outstretched. "Yeah sure... Uh, (Name), Cas wants to talk to you..." And he passes the phone over. As Cas talks to you, Sam walks over to Dean who was leaning against the trunk of the Impala, changing the batteries in the flash lights. "Hey Sammy, we ready to kill this son of a bitch?" Dean asks in his usual crass tone. "Almost, Cas is just on the phone to (Name)." Dean stops his movements at the sound of your name and looks over at Cas for a moment, "Oh, ok." then back to the torches. Sam notices this and decides to voice what's been on his mind lately, "Dean, What happened between you and (Name)?"

"I don't know what you mean Sammy." Dean replies, pleading ignorance. "Don't lie to me Dean. You two barely talk anymore, you act like she doesn't exist sometimes; but then you act like you did when she got attacked..."

"She's a friend Sam, I'm not gonna be pleased if she gets hurt." He cuts him off sharply turning around and opening the trunk. "We've had friends who have been in worse shape and have even died that you haven't been that concerned for." Sam whispers while watching his brother throw the used batteries back into the car and begin dipping his own blade into the jar of blood. "Barely sleeping. Not eating. Changing her dressings every five seconds. Even researching ways to heal wounds faster. I've never seen you like that before..." Dean pauses for a moment to listen to his brother before closing the Impala's boot and turning to face Sam. "The only other person you've been that distraught over was..." Sam stops in his train of thought, as it leads him to an interesting and obvious one. "Me. Dean, you're in love with her." But before Dean can say anything a cell is dangling in front of them both. It's Cas with the phone, "(Name) wants to talk to you." He looks at one of the brothers. "Me?" Dean asks, looking confused, but taking the phone nonetheless. "Hello?"

"Please, be careful Dean." and you hang up.

As he hands back the phone to Sam, your voice keeps replaying in his mind; Low and soft, barely audible, but with such heartfelt meaning, like you were almost begging. "Dean?" Sam's voice brings him back. "Yeah... sorry, line must of cut out." He lies, "Are we ready to go?" As the other two confirm that they are, they make their way into the hospital.

"Dean!" Cas's voice tumbles throughout the halls. Both Dean and Sam rush to where Cas's voice came from. "What is it Cas?" Dean asks, sprinting into the room. There were a line of bodies dangling from ropes; some moulted corpses, others but a few days old. They check all of the fresher bodies, but all were dead. "This one's still slightly warm, so I would say we're late by no more than a couple of hours." Cas says as he raises his hand down from a boy's neck. "Son of a BITCH!" Dean shouts as he raises his head to the ceiling. "If they're all dead..." Sam begins, "then the Djinn has either relocated already or is hunting for another victim."

"Then we must hope it is the latter!" Cas says, looking around the room. "Cas!" Sam exclaims in a laugh. "Sorry, was that inappropriate?" Cas asks stoically. "Yeah, just a bit."

"No, I agree with Cas," Dean says, turning to the both of them, "If it's relocated it could take us weeks to find it again, but if it's gone to find someone else, then we still have a chance to kill it." Sam nods, accepting this reasoning. "So should we go looking for it, or stay here and wait?" Sam asks, repositioning the knife in his hand. "You two go and see if you can find it."

"No Dean." Barks Sam before walking up to his brother. "Do you remember what happened last time? No, no one should be left on their own with a Djinn around." Dean looks at the seriousness in his little brothers eyes and lays a hand on his shoulder. "Alright Sammy, You and Me will go search for it. Cas..." Dean turns to his friend. "Yes?" to find that he's standing directly behind him. "Geez..." after jumping back a little, he says "Cas, you ring (Name) and ask if she can see if Djinns have particular hunting grounds or victim types." With that Castiel takes out his phone and dials your number while the brothers head out the door.

Sam and Dean get into the Impala, to try and hunt down the Djinn. "So," and Sam takes this opportunity to talk to Dean, "how long you been in love with her?"

"I don't wanna talk about it." He says, getting into gear and setting off. "Oh ok, yeah sure." Sam had every intention of leaving it at that. But, "you should really tell her." he still couldn't leave it at that. "Sam," Dean looks at his little brother, "I... I don't wanna talk about it ok?" Dean keeps his eyes focused on the road, but the glossed look in his eyes and the slight acceleration of the car affirmed Sam's suspicions. "Dean, She's a hunter too so she knows all the dangers and possibilities," Sam continues, looking out the window for anything suspicious, "also there's no worry of her not believing you." Dean opens his mouth but, "Well don't talk about it then, just listen to me talk to you about it." Sam stops him. "Dean, she's smart, funny and a great hunter, but above these she has shown us that hunting is a part of our lives, but not the reason for it." Sam looks back to the front of the car, remembering the past years that you've been there, a smile appearing on his face. "She's shown us how to have fun again, how to live our own lives and be our own people; We've gone to concerts, baseball and football games, shown we can have actual relationships without having to leave in the middle of the night or giving fake names. She's given us the chance of a life back."

(Dean's POV)  
"I know." Dean whispers. "Sorry?" Sam asks, though more of a coax to get him to say more. "I know OK?" He clamps his hands down on the wheel, his voice cracking. "I know how great she is... That's all I've been trying to forget over the past couple of months." Which have been agony for him; hearing you laugh and knowing it wasn't him who was the cause, watching Castiel be the one to hold you when you're cold, comfort you when you cry. Knowing that the way it used to be, or could have been, was gone. And it was all his fault. "If only I hadn't stayed quiet." He says to himself under his breath. "What?"

"It's all because of me!" Dean growls, gripping the wheel. "I should have said something, done something, not just stand there like the cowardly bitch I am."

"Dean, what are you talking about?" Sam asks, worried and a little scared. But before Dean could say anything, a bloodcurdling scream came from one of the alleys. Both brothers looked at each other and Dean drove down and parked inside the alleyway. there was limited visibility due to the darkness so Sam grabbed the torches, throwing one to Dean. "It came from down here right?" Just then another scream permeated throughout the midnight air, answering Sam's question. Both brothers bolted in the direction of the scream, just to be met by a dead end. "It came from down here." Dean says, looking at the wall and it's surroundings. "No, it didn't." Dean turns to Sam, to see what he means. "It came from up there." With that Sam jumps and grabs onto the fire escape of the apartment building, pulling himself up. Dean looks at the fire escape, 'Oh shit, how am I gonna do that?' crossing his mind. Sam looks back at his brother, a smile pulling at his mouth. "Need some help?"

"No, I'm good." Dean protests with confidence, "I was just making sure you didn't hurt yourself." With that he steps back a few paces, takes a run up and jumps. Hits the escape chest first then spends a few seconds wiggling his body, failing to get himself up. Suddenly, Dean's lifted up and placed on the cold metal of the stairs. "I could have done that." Dean barks, as he brushes off his clothes. "You're welcome." Sam says, then begins to run up the rest of the stairs, poking head through the rungs just to add "Old man."

"I am not old Sammy!" Dean shouts, following on behind his brother. "Oh, then must be because you're short." Sam turns his head round to his brother; face innocent, tone mocking. "Can we stay focussed please, geez." Sam laughs at this and takes it as yet another victory. Though, before anymore can be said, the scream is heard once more. Both Sam and Dean run up the stairs to the roof of the building, the source of the noise.

"Excuse me, what do you think you are doing?" The boys are met by a bunch of teens, cameras and a microphone. "We heard screaming, so we came to..."

The director, a spot-faced dweeb in a Led Zeppelin top, then put his hand up, motioning Sam to stop talking. "Yes, well, as you can see, we are filming here..." his tone, really starting to tick Dean off, is rude and demeaning "So if you could please vacate this area, we may be able to get back to work." and he motioned for the both the shoo. Which was the final straw, and Dean leapt onto the twerp. "No one talks to my brother that way."

"Someone help!" The girl in boys clothing screamed, "Someone get this savage off me." With that Sam rushes over and pulls Dean away. "At least one of you has some sense, you ruffians." He really shouldn't have said that, as Dean takes this opportunity to kick the boy in the nuts, sending him writhing in pain on the floor. "Come on Dean that's enough."

"Alright, I'm cool." Dean says, shrugging Sam off before turning to the crying teenager on the floor, "and you disgrace that shirt." and they make their way back down the stairs.

After a few minutes of silence, allowing him to cool off, Sam restarts the conversation from earlier. "Dean?"

"Yeah?" Dean's a few steps behind, taking more time so he doesn't fall, again. "What were you talking about back in the car? What was your fault?" Deans footsteps stop, making Sam turn to look at him. Tell you the truth, he had hoped that the conversation had gone, and Sam had forgotten. But Sam doesn't forget anything, never has, that's why he's the smart one. "A few months back," Dean sighs walking down the steps past his brother, reluctantly deciding to tell the truth, "(Name) told me that she was in love with me, and that she had loved me for the past three years."

"What, you didn't know?" This question confuses Dean and he stops to look at Sam, "You knew?" Sam laughs at this, "Of course I knew, everybody knew. It was so obvious; The way she worries about you, the fact that she prays for you when your hurt." Dean can't get over it, he was the only one who didn't see it. How could he be so blind? "You should have seen her Dean," Sam continues, jumping from the stairs, tone a little more solemn, "when you were in the hospital after that demon attack in Carolina, we didn't know if you were going to come out of it alive." He looks up at Dean, "She visited you everyday." Dean jumps down, now standing in front of Sam. "Even when we went hunting, she had to visit you;" Sam chuckles to himself, turning his face to the black alley, "she even broke in after visiting hours when she had to." Sam draws in a deep breath, steadying himself before "Dean?"

"Yeah?" A default response as his mind and emotions are running rampant, having escaped from their cast iron cage. "I shouldn't be saying this, 'cause (Name) has no idea," he draws in another breath, "but I caught her talking to you once." They both begin to walk back to the Impala, all the while Dean staring into the abyss and listening intently. "About the fourth day of you being in that coma, I went to get coffee, but when I came back she was there." Sam tells the story, Deans heart aching to hear it. "I heard her talking to you and I didn't want to interrupt, so I hid just outside the door. She was telling you about her day, about me and Cas and what you had missed out on." Sam looks at Dean to see his expression; stiff and emotionless, trying to hide pained eyes. "Then her phone started to beep with that embarrassing text tone of hers. Someone had sent her a joke and I could hear her laughing as she read it." Sam gave a sad chuckle and shook his head, "I can remember everything, even that stupid joke. After reading it herself she said that you'll like this one and read it back out to you."

By this point they had reached the Impala, but Dean made no motion to get in; instead he just stood at the driver door, arms folded on the roof of the car and waiting for Sam to finish the story. "She laughed again, but that slowly turned to tears." Sam pauses, looking through the window of the car at his reflection before looking back at Dean seriously. "She started to cry uncontrollably Dean; a women who stitched herself back up after a shapeshifter slashed her across the back." Sam's words begin to become more aggressive, the memory of her pain obviously a hard one to stomach. "She started to beg; pleading for you to wake up and to be ok again. She even said that she'd go to a Crossroads demon, but she wouldn't because she couldn't bare the thought of you being hurt again, like with Dad." Sam leans his hands against the roof of the Impala, burying his head into his forearm. "At this point I decided to step in because I didn't want to hear her cry anymore," He lifts his head, chin now resting on his arm, "That's when I saw..."

"Saw what?" Dean finally speaks, looking at his brother with concern in his eyes; concern for you. "She was in the bed with you Dean," Sam mimics his brothers pose, so that he is eye level and looking straight at him. "She was on the bed with you, stroking your hair with one hand and holding your hand with the other, and she kept saying that she'll always be there, and she'll never give up on you." With that Sam moves away from the car and opens the passenger door, "and thats when I decided that I'd go drink my coffee in the cafeteria." and got into the car.

Dean stood there. Outside the car as it started to rain. You'd loved him that much? For that long? But you'd never breathed a word to him. 'Why?' he thought, 'Why didn't she tell me sooner than she did? for fear of rejection? I would never reject her.'

Oh but he did. He rejected you that day. He rejected you by doing nothing. He rejected you, even though all he wanted to do was hold you, kiss you and tell you all the things he loved, cherished and adored about you. By rejecting you, he rejected himself the second he let you walk out that door. Deans head falls into his hands as he thinks about the things he should've said and done, anything to stop you walking away.

At that moment Sam comes bursting out of the car, "(Name)'s gone!"

"What?!" Dean stares at him, a black pit forming in his heart. Both the brothers quickly get in the car and drive back to the motel, speed limit of no concern. "Cas has been trying to ring me the past hour, but I left my phone in the car" Sam explains, trying to ring Cas back, fingers clumsy on the keys. "Yes. Cas what's going on?" Dean looks at his brother on the phone, heart going the same milage as the car. "Hmh... There was what?... When did you get there?... Where are you now?... Good, stay there we'll be there soon. Ok, yeah bye." Dean's worry escalates listening to this conversation; Sam's eyes are wide and his face pale, he takes in breath after breath, trying to stay calm but the fear and crack of his voice betraying him. Sam lowers the phone, hand shaking violently, and looks down in thought. "Sam, what is it? What did he say? Has he found (Name)?" He looks at Dean, eyes serious. "Sam, what did he SAY?"

"Dean, I think we should wait till we get back to he Motel, then you can see..." Sam, still trying to get over the shock himself, tries to quell the questions and anxieties of his brother.

"See what? What did Cas say? Everything Sammy." Sam is silent, and it's obvious why he isn't giving his brother the information. "WHAT DID HE SAY?" The indescribable emotion and sheer power in Deans' voice causes Sam to jump. "Dean, I know you want me to describe everything that Cas said, but I really..."

"I don't give a damn about what 'you really'," he cuts Sam off, tone almost a hiss, "I just want to know what he said, Sam," his tone and volume changes. He looks at his little brother, who can see the battle he is having with his sanity of the subject; tears in his eyes and voice soft, apologetic and, heartbreakingly, begging "Please".

"Dean, I won't." Sam looks down at his hands, "I can't. I'm sorry." Dean looks back at the road, wiping away a tear that threatens to fall.

Dean, arriving back at the motel, slams on the breaks and throws off his seatbelt hurriedly, slamming the car door as he gets out. "Dean, no wait!" Sam cries out to his brother, who is sprinting up the stairs to their room.

The door crashes with the wall as he nearly breaks it in. Dean pauses at the room; obvious signs of struggle as the ruins of a chair and shards of a smashed mirror are strewn over the floor. Dean walks slowly into the room, consumed by nameless emotions. Dean's breath hitches in his throat as something catches his eye; a trail of blood from the bathroom to the door.

"Oh Jesus." Sam mutters through his hand, slowly walking up to his brother. Dean cautiously ventures to the bathroom. "Where's Cas?"

"Wasn't here." Dean replies absentmindedly, lost in a shocked daze. "Oh my g..." Dean falls back and chokes back the vomit from the sight which awaited him in the bathroom.

"What?! Oh God!" Sam jolts backwards from the scene, crashing into the desk behind him. The ragged glass from another shattered mirror, casting red reflections through the pool of blood on the white tiled floor.

Sam, horror stricken, begins to blink and shake his head erratically, "M,m,m,maybe this isn't her blood," he begins, fixated on the sight, "This could b,b,be some o,o,one else's." He tears his head away to look at his brother, "Dean?"

Dean is standing by the side of your bed, staring at the floor and swaying distractedly. He squats down and picks something up. A Photograph; That one when you guys went to Missouri, you're sat on a wall and Cas, Dean and Sam are sat on a bench in front of you, grinning away like idiots. Dean traces your face with his finger, you're looking down at him with a smile. As he stands there starring at you, he realises something about your smile; and why you're looking at him. He always thought it was because he kept hitting his head into your legs, making it impossible for you to uncross your ankles. But it's because you cared for him, and loved that he was doing that to you.

He closes his eyes, the sound of the tear hitting the photo a blur against his remembering your voice, your laugh, and your declaration of love looping inside his head.

Suddenly he kicks out at the bedside table, causing the hinges to crack and your belongings to fall to the floor. "Fucking Hell!" He curses, throwing the remote at the TV screens then turning and punching the wall behind him. "Dean, calm down," Sam races over to Dean and restrains him against the wall, "We'll find her. That probably isn't even her blood."

"What if it is?!" Dean pulls off of the wall violently, pushing sending sam crashing to the floor. "What if it is her blood Sam? In her condition, she would be on the brink of death if not..." He pauses from his tormented outburst, and lowers his voice, "If not dead already."

"She won't be dead yet."

At these words, Dean grabs the man by the scruff of his neck and pins him to the wall. "Where the Fuck have you been?" His words are of venom as he spits them in the man's face. "Looking for (Name)," Castiel shoves Dean off forcefully before putting his finger in his face, "Don't you dare make the mistake that you are the only one who cares for her." Hearing the anger in his voice, Dean walks away from Cas and sits on your bed with his head in his hands.

Attempting to calm the situation, Sam stands from his chair and places a hand on Cas's shoulder. "Are you ok?"

"Yes, I am fine," Cas pats Sam's hand, "Thank you Sam." Sam's hand flops back to his side as Cas walks away from him and towards the bathroom. "This isn't her blood."

"Are you sure?" Dean breaks his silence, rising to his feet and looking at Cas. "Yes, It's lambs blood," Cas returns to the brothers in the middle of the room, "she was covering this in it." With that Cas produces (Name)'s blade from his inner-coat pocket, stains of blood evident. Dean rushes to him and takes the blade from him, "She was going to come help us." he says, looking his friend in the eye. "Yes, that is what I believe."

Relief engulfs Deans body, a heavy sigh to show this. "I was so worried that she had been attacked." Dean says with a cracking voice, holding his chest. "She was."

Sam's words draw Dean's attention back, and back to the serious expressions of his companions. He looks at Cas for confirmation of Sam's statement, "Though the blood in the bathroom is not hers," he begins, closing his eyes and swallowing hard, "the trail from mirror to the door is." Both Dean and Sam follow the long stream of red, now embedded into the light blue carpet.

"We need to get back to the hospital." Cas says, stepping past the brothers and making his way back to the door. "The Hospital? So you found her?" Dean looks to Cas eagerly, his hope returning. "That's on the other side of town. Ok then, come on, I'll drive."

"Not that Hospital," Dean turns back to Sam, who's eyes are etched with pain for his brother. Sam walks to Dean and places his hands on his shoulders. Lowering his head, Sam draws in a steadying breath, before raising his eyes to meet Deans.

"Dean, the Djinn has her."


End file.
